“I wager he is as warm as if it were the month of August, although the wind is blowing from the north,” said another. “Give him time to invoke his patron and make a vow,” said a third. “His patron is St. Coward,” said the lord of Signerol; “no doubt he is making a vow never to brave another danger if he delivers him from this one.” Pushed to extremity by these jeers, and reflecting that, after all, Raimond V. was not so cruel as to force him into real danger, the recorder opened the door, and suddenly jumped back. At that moment he was roughly overthrown by the onset of two Camargnan bulls, that rushed from the stable, head downward, and uttering a peculiar and stifled bellowing, for they were muzzled. The two animals were not of very large size, but were full of vigour. One was tawny, streaked with dark brown; the other was black as jet. The first use they made of their liberty was to bound over the court, paw the earth with their fore feet, and try to divest themselves of their muzzles. The appearance of the two bulls was greeted with hurrahs and bravos by the guests of the baron. “Eh, well, recorder, your inventory?” cried Raimond V., holding his sides, and giving full vent to his hilarity. “Come, clerk, enter upon your official report my bulls, Nicolin and Saturnin. Ah! you demand the arms that I possess,--there they are. It is with the horns of these fellows from Camargne that I defend myself. Eh, Man-jour! I see by your fear that you recognise them as arms, serious and offensive. Come, recorder, label Nicolin, and draw up Saturnin.” “God’s death!” cried the lord of Signerol, “these bulls look as if they would like to make an inventory of the clerk’s and recorder’s breeches!” “By Our Lady, in spite of his corpulence, the recorder made a leap then that would do honour to a toreador!” “And the clerk,--how he winds around the trees! He is equal to a frightened weasel!” “Christmas! Christmas! Nicolin has a piece of his cloak!” It is needless to say that these different exclamations described the phases of the improvised race with which Raimond V. entertained his friends. The bulls were in hot pursuit of the recorder and his clerk, whom they wished first to attack. The halberdiers and Little John had prudently availed themselves of the protection of the wall. Thanks to the trees planted in the court, the recorder and his clerk were able for some time to escape the attacks of the bulls by running from tree to tree. But after awhile their strength was exhausted. Fear paralysed their energies, and they were about to be trampled under foot by these ferocious animals. Be it said to the praise of Raimond V. that, notwithstanding the brutality of his savage pleasantry, he would have been distressed beyond measure if a tragedy had ended this adventure. Happily one of the halberdiers screamed: “Master Isnard,--climb a tree,--quick, quick, before the bull gets back.”